


Lament

by seekingjets



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: A valentines day short, M/M, Mech preg mention, bad planning, megatron is a dumb, the author makes up myths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 16:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17853398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingjets/pseuds/seekingjets
Summary: Megatron forgets a very special day.--Valentine's Day short.





	Lament

Megatron was beginning to suspect that Starscream had finally lost his DAMN MIND. 

Not that it came as such a surprise really. Bound to happen eventually, but things did not progress the way Megatron had expected them to. He presumed such an event would occur after a failed battle or in the throes of another scheme to usurp him. That Megatron would wake to find his Second, post interface, looming over him with some dastardly weapon in hand. Some manic speech at the ready before attempting the unthinkable. 

Though Megatron placed a great deal of trust in Starscream, he was always at least thirty percent on alert for the day Starscream would throw a tantrum and his senses never returned to him. It came as a surprise that this seemed to be occurring now…

They’d gotten into a mild argument a few days ago, one that if not followed with such terrible behaviours Megatron wouldn’t have bothered to remember at all. He’d be away assisting a final assault across an Autobot barrier, left his Second to command the Nemesis and usually that left Starscream in a good mood. Though he always played up his reluctance to surrender power back to Megatron, a successful stint as captain had always appealed to Starscream’s need for power. Control. To show off his abilities (of which he had many when kept in line) and bask in the lack of trouble he’d caused like it was somehow a generous trade.

Megatron had returned to his ship with a few warriors, exhausted after weeks away, and only expected to find Starscream preening with self-satisfaction. Assuming the brat had a grand time sitting on his throne, commanding their troops - perhaps even sleeping in Megatron’s quarters while he was away. Instead he had the brat pouting and hissing in the corridors, muttering about something Megatron hadn’t the time for. He was tired, fresh from battle and inviting Starscream back to his quarters had been met with a loud and violent curse and the sight of the other storming away.

At least, Megatron had thought then, he was free to recharge unbothered. 

Unfortunately the symptoms of Starscream’s fit had not faded by designated morning. The bridge was tense under the scowling rule of their Second. Who sat at his throne, clawing up the arm under anxious scratches repetitive and obvious from Megatron’s thin glare. He’d ordered Starscream to stop, remove himself from his seat, and was met with such a look he almost looked to see if his paint job had not been melted back in the heat of Starscream’s disdain. 

Starscream was barely obedient on a good day, but what followed was outright insubordination. Ignoring orders, talking back with a flippancy reserved for mechs in the daze of insanity. He didn’t challenge Megatron for supremacy, but seemed to do his best to test the limit of childish behavior. Leaving patrol early, performing tasks with subpar dedication, leaving his trine scrambling to clean up his messes with a frantic energy. Days ending with Thundercracker bowing in repeated humility and apology while Skywarp looked for their troublemaker.

Normally Megatron wouldn’t have tolerated such immature behaviors, but aside from throttling the brat, no amount of threats or lowered tone seemed to even shake him from the daze of insolence! In fact it felt as though the moments Megatron did lose his patience he swore Starscream only looked pleased for it! 

Then, worst of all came the current day. As Megatron had almost grown used to the ridiculous behavior of back-talking, mocking his tone,. Letting duties fall to chaos, even watching Starscream file his claws at his station! It got worse when Starscream, given a warning that Megatron was allowing him one last chance to shape up - or else - his seeker looked him dead in the optic and said…

 _“Whatever.”_ And proceeded to ignore him the rest of the day.

Megatron almost throws a fist at the memory, startling Shockwave on the display screen. 

“Who does that brat think he is?” Megatron snarls, clenching his servo atop the control board, interrupting whatever he’d been ignoring anyways. 

“Sir?” Shockwave, utterly faceless, does not compensate with gentle head-tilts or motions to imply emotions like Soundwave. He is still and watchful, the gray world behind his science officer moves more than Shockwave. 

“Starscream.” Megatron speaks the name as a curse and Shockwave gives a short “ah” of acknowledgement. “His actions as of late are intolerable. I can manage his disloyalty, or violence…”

 

That behavior was the norm, practically flirting for them. But this ridiculous outburst without purpose!? Hadn’t Megatron been kind as of recently? Hadn’t he allowed the little wretch to steal into his time? How many years sharing his berth, his thoughts?? Now he was to suffer Starscream’s aloof cruelty? Silent treatment his aft! He wouldn’t stand for it. 

“Your relationship with Starscream is quite the quandary.” Shockwave comments from the minimal screen, voice smooth and off-putting. Hollow at best. “Might I suggest relocating him to a contained setting for the time? Wait out any troublesome wrinkles in his programming.” 

“Are you suggesting I ground my Second to his chambers?” Megatron scoffs despite the true want to do exactly that. Usually when Starscream got out of hand they could fight or ‘face their way back to civility - but with this wretched demeanor getting in the way Megatron had no luck on either fronts.

“I was thinking more along the lines of stuffing him in a cannon for the next century.” 

“That’s third on my list.” Megatron mourns, shaking such bothersome irritations from his immediate thoughts and trying to refocus on the updates of ordered weapons from Shockwave. (Only to have Starscream’s flat and empty expression flutter through his mind. _”Whatever_ ” as sharp as any knife his beautiful bastard had tried to gut him with.) Megatron really needed to reevaluate his taste in mechs… “Continue with your report Shockwave.” 

“Of course my Lord.” He nods, more motion than usual...and that’s when Megatron spots something amiss. “As I was saying the progress on your desired---” 

“What is that?” Megatron finds himself crowding the small screen of his workstation, fist squeezing the desk’s edge until it cracks under pressure. 

“What is…” Shockwave turns his focus to Megatron’s accusing glare, slow to follow, but when he does. “Ah.” 

Just behind Shockwave’s seat is a box. Dark blue and opaque but pulsing with an unheard beat - a pattern dancing across the colored surface in strands of brilliant design. Like falling stars echoing across an inky black sky in whirls of pleasing light. It was far too pretty a thing for Shockwave to casually have on his person, that it was present in the other’s lab at all left Megatron’s tanks gurgling in bad process. 

“Soundwave sent this to me for the Lament.” He answers, matter-of-factly, turning in his posture to give Megatron a better look at the light box swirling in peaceful patterns. “It mimics their spark-pulse. Intricate, isn’t it?” 

“Why?” Megatron asks, trying to sort through dates and data of Cybertronian years and astronomy. “Why would Soundwave…” 

“For the Lament, my Lord. It was last week. I believe the day you returned...from your...campaign…” The day Starscream followed him with a look of annoyance which built up quickly to outright anger. The day Megatron had ignored him...

The world spirals and goes dark for a freckled moment. Megatron has not felt fear or pain in true form for so long, that the sensation of absolute terror searing up his fuel lines and flaring each sensor leaves him shaken. Before him Shockwave observes on the screen, optic brightening in calculation. Glancing between the pulse-box and Megatron’s likely gaunt expression and the antennae framing Shockwave’s helm shrink back.

“Oh. Lord Megatron.” Shockwave, for all his cold speech and lacking voice - who has mocked Primus with each skittering abomination and laughed - sounds terrified. “He is going to kill you.” 

\---

The Lament of AdovegaHyn is an old tradition, triggered only by a celestial anomaly. A comet cluster which returned to Cybertronian skies every thousand years or so, bringing with it old myth and ancient stories.

It was modernized of course, a frivolous holiday before the war and one which had little meaning for a miner such as himself. They had few things to gift and even less time when survival was the only focus of their lives. Megatron had first “celebrated” the holiday only when he was a gladiator, perplexed by the sudden onslaught of fan-sent presents both obscene and expensive. Soundwave had been the one to explain it. The expectation for mechs above ground with credits to burn, spoil and embarrass themselves to show affection through gifts rather than through action or words. Megatron had found it amusing, almost shameful…

Until the first Lament with Starscream. 

Seekers were superstitious creatures. Vos with all its hoarded history guarded by isolation and secrecy. Myth was as good as truth to them and old traditions, ritual and customs, as sacred as their very sparks. They were violent, romantic things and while Starscream did his best to seem above what he called “barbaric old thought”...only the Lament had ever mattered to Starscream. 

Of course it would. It was an event to wildly spoil your lover. Shower them with gifts and adoration, show them your dedication and affection in all ways possible. Megatron had never gotten a taste for such things until Starscream - and after spending many MANY Laments together (debauching quarters and claimed worlds, spilling the conquered wealth of enemies across Starscream’s polished lap) he should have known better than to let one pass unnoticed.

The Lament of AdovegaHyn is a legend. A story of a Cybertronian warrior who fell for a seven winged steel siren, said to be an ancestor of the very life of Vos. A tragic ending only followed. Megatron had enough tragedies in his youth that he had never found much appeal to the story until Starscream was found waiting outside his room beneath the colosseum. Polished and warm, almost demure in his approach...Megatron had learned quickly he could be quite inspired by old tales if it brought on such behavior. 

They had little to spoil one another with at such time, everything went to the budding rebellion. But in the dark they traded what they could, all they had to give. _”Be my soldier”_ He’d asked. _”Be my first._ Starscream offered. 

Megatron was already storming off from his call with Shockwave (who seemed to understand well enough) and hailed Starscream five times before giving up. Bitterly ignoring him still, he turned to contact Thundercracker who answered at the first try and gave up his sulking wing leader’s location before Megatron even had to ask. 

While war gave little room to wait around for comets and old love stories, they’d made it a point to maintain the tradition. A small reprieve from chaos which seemed well-accepted by the Decepticons. Megatron had never halted his soldiers from celebrating as they saw fit, their various traditions and special occasions were diverse and powerful, important to maintain. The Lament was really the only tradition Megatron bothered with, and that was both to satisfy Starscream and keep him happy - as well as to partake in something Megatron did not have before. 

Someone to celebrate with. 

The observation deck is always the first place he looks for a pouting seeker. So it was no surprise Thundercracker confirmed suspicions and he finds Starscream there. Angular shape a pale light against the vast dark of freckled space. Arms crossed and leaning into glass stronger than Megatron’s armor - expression a twisted knot of anger and outrage barely contained. The sharp lines of his form highlighted in the low light and he looked ever the haunt, a forlorn spirit, beautiful and lingering for revenge.

Megatron makes his presence known with approaching steps, watches Starscream’s wings jump and hover as his mouth curls to snarl. A vibration carries across the distance and Megatron feels the seeker warning him with the low sound, easily ignored. Which seems to give Starscream proof that Megatron will not be intimidated away. 

“So you finally caught on.” The voice sends a great deal of caution through Megatron's thoughts. “Do you recall what we did for the last Lament?” Starscream calls out, voice thin and strained against the screeching Megatron knows he longs to do. Always feels better when he’s yelling and his distress becomes all the more apparent when finally reaching his side. Towering over the seeker yet feeling brought low by the pinned scorn across his expression. 

“Remind me.” 

“Figures you wouldn’t remember.” Starscream won’t even look up at him.

“You had a new fleet commissioned for me by our tentative allies in the JaVeo system.” Megatron answered finally, standing stiff and waiting at Starscream’s shadow. “Four hundred and sixty new ships, no two the same. Fully stocked and ready for our soldiers to take their place aboard. All without touching our galactic funds. I think Soundwave is still upset they have no idea how you did it.” A brief smile for the memory. “Oh the things I did to you on those ships before they were given to their respective captains. A christening of sorts.” 

Starscream doesn’t smile or acknowledge him any further. Watching the universe beyond as if it were the only thing keeping him from turning on Megatron (judging by the tremor in his jaw). “And for you, I brought the lost crown of Gibbous Sun Siren, first and last emperor of Vos.” 

“You brought me my ancestor’s crown. One that your war caused to be lost in the first place.” Starscream huffs, wings wavering in irritation. “Hardly equivalent.” 

“Starscream,” Megatron gains the other’s attention briefly, a thin scowl and beyond that: hurt. “I was at battle, I lost track of time.” 

“I reminded you before you left.” 

“Months ago.” Of course Megatron remembers _now._

“It’s a reoccuring event!” Starscream flares, snarling at the stars instead of facing him. “Funny thing about those, they don’t stop occurring!” 

“You could have said something on the day!” 

“I shouldn’t have to!” 

“Why is it only my responsibility?!” Megatron raises his voice and finds he’s yelling at Starscream’s shoulder, still firmly set away from him. It smothers a building temper into ember and ash rather effectively. His large frame finds the glass cold and unyielding as Starscream’s glare, leaning to try and gain a better vantage of his sulking seeker. “It was not my intention to hurt you.” 

“You’re so good at it.” Starscream growls. “How many times did you threaten me this week? For your mistake?” The trust cost him a certain discomfort and Megatron knew he would be paying for this mistake for awhile. Fine. He was prideful, but not a fool. Their bickering and challenges were acceptable: but this was worth a momentary bow to repair the wound he brought upon their own sacred event. 

“What can I give to make it up to you?” 

“Your head on a platter.” 

“Well. That might be difficult.” Megatron watches the smallest turn of wings, loosening their tension that he felt confident enough to reach across the distance, draw the tip of a curled finger across Starscream’s cheek. “How about my head bowed in humiliation that I brought such a pretty face to wrinkle with dispair?” 

Starscream snorts, clearly against his will, the laugh choked by dismay and a tight jaw. 

“Primus spare me from poetry.” He groans, turning his cheek against the touch to add the smallest pressure back, wings lowering just a bit more. “You know, Adovega wasted his life away groveling and offering tribute for a singular moment of Hyn's attention.” References the myth and Megatron feels he's gained territory. 

“I think you're missing the point of the story. Hyn died shortly after, regretting not showing Adovega love in return.” He worries briefly that perhaps seekers liked the tragedy part most...

“Well how will I know how it feels if you don't die first?” Speaks as if it is perfectly reasonable. Chin turning under Megatron's gentle nudge, coaxing Starscream to face him with his tense anger. “Don't be fooled, I'm still furious at you.”

“As you should be.” Allows Starscream the victory if it will sedate his upset. Choosing the path of least resistance without falling on his knees and begging - which he would not. Probably. “There's no reason we can't celebrate now.” Servos, large and wide enough to cover the curve of Starscream's waist, tugging the seeker in close. Able now to feel the pulse of his field intermingle with his, like a silk cloth drawing slowly back. Offering Starscream what he craves most: attention in exchange for his fury to yield.

“And there are your true intentions.” Starscream bows to Megatron's touch. Allowing him to paw down the back of his hips, handful of aft, and lips against the tilt of his brow. “Fine. But next Lament I expect twice the offering.” 

“I think that's fair.” He doesn't stop Starscream from pulling away, feeling the seeker claws grasp his wrist, give a gentle but promising tug to guide him, before letting it drop back. Retreating to the door. Seems he did just enough to gain a chance to make it up to the spoiled creature. “I suppose I won't be getting your offering this time?” A mild shame but an acceptable sacrifice, though Starscream was always so creative at his presents. 

“Don't worry, it will still be good by the next Lament.” Starscream assures, wings suddenly flickering high, playing hypnotic with reflections streaking across the pale surface. “It's not like another thousand years will lessen my chances of getting sparked.”

Megatron stares while Starscream pauses at the door, processor screeching. 

“You…”

“ _I am_ going to see how good yiu are for next Lament, before deciding whether that present is still on the table. I'd begin planning now, your future heir is on the line.” He smiles finally and it's so wicked that Megatron might actually miss the glare. “Well? Should I just start on my own or will you be joining me?” He teases, disappearing around the door before Megatron's mind can catch up. 

“WaiSTARSCREAM!” He likely wakes the entire ship, storming after the seeker, certain now Starscream had truly lost his damn mind. 

Which wasn't so terrible in retrospect.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I offer on Twitter to write a VDay short? 
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Did I completely lose track of days and thus was inspired to write Megatron also forgetting?
> 
> Yes.


End file.
